


Supersonic Man

by interabang



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Frottage, M/M, Post-Movie(s), human Rocket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interabang/pseuds/interabang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rocket is rewarded after a successful mission by getting turned into a human. Much to Peter's surprise, Rocket is <i>hot</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supersonic Man

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Written for the GotG Kink Meme (prompt [here](http://guardian-kink.livejournal.com/1806.html?thread=206350#t206350).) This version's edited and a bit different from the one on there.
> 
> 2) Title is from "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen.
> 
> 3) Groot's fully grown in this because I like the idea of human!Rocket still hitching rides on him.

"You have done us a great service," the leader of some species Peter couldn't even try to pronounce rumbled down to Rocket. She looked like one of those griffins in a book of myths his mom had given to him long ago.

As it turned out, not so much of a myth.

"Without your assistance," she continued, "we would have surely been annihilated by our sworn enemies across the sea of Fhshgrnhahn."

"No problem," Rocket said. "Anything to help out someone in need." Peter could barely restrain himself from laughing.

The griffins' leader, Gnighngnad - or was it Gnighcknak? Yeah, that sounded right - kept her piercing eyes steady on Rocket. "You were the one who created the device that destroyed our foes' leaders. You severed their most intelligent and dangerous beings from the rest of their gormless herd, decimated their base of operations, and caused them to feel so much shame that they will not dare to cross us again."

"I helped," Drax said, and Gamora elbowed him in the chest.

"Yep, Your Royaltyness, all in a day's work." To his credit, Rocket was trying to do the diplomacy thing Peter taught him, but he could tell it wouldn't last long.

"You must accept our gratitude," the great griffin said, her tail swishing behind her. Once again, Peter wondered why such a large and intimidating species would be so defenseless against another one that looked like giant butterflies, but he wasn't going to ask.

"Sure, I accept," Rocket said with a shrug.

"Your gift, wise Rocket of the Guardians, is whatever your heart truly desires."

One of his ears twitched. "My what, now?"

Gnighngnack closed her eyes, and Peter swore she was purring. "Your wish, as we know, is to be in another form."

Peter and the others turned their heads so sharply toward Rocket in unison that none of them were quick enough to stop the plume of dark grey smoke that suddenly erupted from the large griffin's beak. Gamora cried out when the smoke circled and engulfed Rocket. Groot roared, starting to extend his arm to drag Rocket away from the smoke.

"Do not be afraid, friends of Rocket. No harm will come to him."

It was over faster than Groot could even say, "I am," and before Peter could draw one of his weapons. The smoke billowed up around Rocket, exploded in a mushroom cloud, turned a shade of golden brown, then promptly dropped down to the hard stone they were all standing on, instantly evaporating.

Peter and the others stood, transfixed, as Rocket lay facedown on the ground, naked and groaning.

Also human.

"It is done," Gnighcknak pronounced as the other lion-eagle hybrids bowed their heads all around the frozen Guardians.

"Rocket!"

"What the —"

"Are you all right?"

"I am Groot?"

He groaned, pressing his palms flat against the stone and trying to push himself back up. Not being used to the extra weight, his arms wobbled and Groot was beside him in an instant.

"Rocket?" Peter asked as Groot gently helped his friend stand up. "You okay, man?" Wow, did it feel weird to mean that literally.

"Yeah, I..." He turned to face Peter, and —

Holy shit.

Peter didn't know if it was because it had been so long since he'd seen another actual human before - if it was those startling blue eyes, or his dark, thick hair Peter suddenly had the urge to run his hands through, but yeah.

Rocket... was _hot_.

He seemed to regain his bearings once he was on his feet, and as he leaned onto Groot for balance, he looked down at himself. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, then widened them.

" _What_?" he exploded. "I'm a _humie_?"

"Naked humie," Peter clarified in a strangled sort of voice.

" _This_ is my heart's desire?"

"How about we board the  _Milano_ , huh? Like, right now," Peter suggested, not wanting Rocket to piss off their clients with his obvious dismay. They were peaceful, but he couldn't ignore those hooked beaks and curved claws. And Peter really wasn't in the mood to be turned into a big butterfly.

The others quickly obliged and Peter tried not to stare at Rocket stumbling, then climbing up onto Groot's back. After hastily thanking Gnighcknak, he couldn't help but think, _Oh, this is going to be all kinds of awkward_.

 

 

"Come on, Rocket, is it really that bad?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, this is everything I've ever wanted. Not swimming in my very own bottomless pool of units, or a neverending supply of weapons, nope, that would've been  _stupid_."   
  
"It would have been a waste of a wish, and you are pleasing to the eyes," Drax said as he poured Xandarian ale into a tin cup, which Rocket seized and downed in one gulp. He wiped his mouth, then stared at the back of his furless hand. Helpfully, Drax added, "I had thought of Terrans as dull-witted and ordinary, but now I see that you are an aesthetic specimen. I was wrong for doubting your people, Quill."  
  
"Uh, thanks?"  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
Hiding a smile, Gamora said, "Aren't you at least a little pleased, Rocket?"  
  
He shrugged. "I mean, it ain't the  _worst_  thing I could be. Could've turned into a slug, or an A'askvarian, so at least my heart's not _completely_ insane."  
  
"If you had turned into an A'askvarian, Quill would have done much rejoicing."  
  
"How do you misinterpret, 'Can we never talk about that again?' I - I thought I made that as clear as possible." Peter valiantly wished his ears didn't choose this exact moment to turn red. They didn't listen.  
  
"I am Groot."  
  
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Rocket said. "I should be looking on the positive side. I mean, at least now when I stand up I can look directly at most of you. Right in your big ugly eyeballs." Almost pointedly, he turned to look at Peter, raising his brows.   
  
"Uh, yeah," Peter said, averting his gaze. Which, of course, fell down to Rocket's package. Standing up, Peter faked a yawn and said, "Well, I think that's enough excitement for me. I'm going to bed, goodnightandsleeptighteveryone." As he turned and walked away, he heard Gamora say, "Why are you all looking at me? I don't understand him, either."  
  
Tossing and turning in his bunk, Peter tried not to think about Rocket's ass, toned thighs, and the slight curl of his hair. Peter tried valiantly not to imagine Rocket's cool blue stare searing into him as he bent Peter's legs back and fucked him slowly, riding him instead of Groot - and in a _very_ different way - all through the night.  
  
Much like a lot of things in his life that he attempted to do, the great Star-Lord failed.

 

 

  
Peter surmised, just like everyone else, that Rocket's frustration had been a cover for joy. He grumbled and growled and occasionally curled into a ball for a few days, looking much more awkward than adorable, but Peter also caught him peering into reflective surfaces, pulling at his lips, his cheeks, and hair. Once, Peter saw him through the half-open bathroom door, reaching his hand behind his back and feeling for implants that were not there. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, sighing deeply.

Peter turned away to give him his privacy, then snapped his head back up when he heard Rocket laughing maniacally. He was flexing his biceps; Peter nearly fell over his feet beating a hasty retreat back to the cockpit.   
  
Rocket also had to get used to always walking around on two long legs instead of occasionally scampering around on all fours. He constantly interrupted his own humming as he built new weapons, grousing about his huge new hands and the way he couldn't fit them into small places. Peter's mind just wandered to where Rocket could put his new Terran digits. 

To everyone's surprise, Rocket constructed a cot near Peter's bunk after he complained that Groot's bark was too sharp for his delicate skin to nap on and the ship's walls too hard to snuggle up against - okay, he didn't use those _exact_ words, but Peter got the gist of it. Groot seemed a little sad about losing his sleeping buddy, but he took it in stride and perked up whenever Rocket forgot himself and climbed up onto Groot for a piggyback ride during a mission. And Groot - well, he didn't end up sleeping alone for long. Peter noticed that Gamora had taken to dozing against the big tree, who had sprouted thick leaves on his side for her. When Peter oh-so-casually brought it up at dinner, she shrugged and said, "I've slept on much worse."   
  
She and Drax welcomed Rocket's change; they had a new sparring partner and eagerly wanted to teach Rocket hand-to-hand combat. Rocket refused them at first, then accepted after he junked his fifth attempt at making a blaster, and after the Guardians' twelfth meeting about fire safety. Still, Rocket stubbornly kept working on his gadgetry, focusing on small guns, but when he had combat lessons, Peter watched with Groot from the sidelines.

As Peter distractedly let Groot drop numerous daisy chain necklaces over his head, he noticed that Rocket started out as a pretty awkward and clumsy fighter; he cursed up a storm every time he was laid flat on his back - a position Peter thought suited him well - but eventually he started moving with the same fluidity he did as a raccoon, using his wits more than his mass. Drax kept inviting Peter to spar with them, but Peter declined, fearing he'd pop a boner in front of everyone if he just so happened to pin Rocket to the mat. Not that he was constantly fantasizing about that, or anything.

When Rocket took off his shirt - Peter's shirt, actually - to go for a round with Drax, Peter had to excuse himself and hastily beat one off in the shower, mentally beating himself up too. First Gamora, now Rocket. As much as Peter wanted to screw two of his companions, he didn't want to screw things up with them. He liked his new family, and didn't want to lose it just because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants. Anyway, he wasn't catching any vibes from Rocket, so he figured it was a one-way street. Good. That had eased things between he and Gamora. Soon enough, he and Rocket would wind up as bros too.   
  
_We'll be the best Terran bros_ , Peter thought as he came, hard, against the shower wall. He sighed in relief and pleasure, until he looked down and noticed all the flower petals that had fallen from his neck and clogged up the drain.

 

 

It seemed like a routine mission at first: grab some blah blah from X Planet to give to the royal Blah Blah Blah in exchange for X number of units. They needed fuel and supplies, specifically clothes and more food for Rocket. And the item they needed to grab was - of fucking  _course_ \- in an area they couldn't land the ship on, so the group of desperate idiots jumped onto a series of rocks across an acidic lake, dodged geysers, scaled steep cliffs, shot at ravenous Traglopods and fireball-spewing Arsonats, and because Drax got injured and needed to heal, they camped out in a fairly dry cave that miraculously held nothing that wanted to kill them.   
  
Gamora and Groot tended to Drax as Peter went outside the cave to get some fresh air. Even he knew how weak the excuse was, since the air was anything but fresh, yet the others seemed preoccupied with a delirious Drax, who was calling out for his wife and her whip. All the more reason for Peter to slip out. He knew it was probably a bad idea, but he needed some space to process everything, and keep a look-out for Traglopods.  
  
Once he got about a minute away from the mouth of the cave to a small patch of dirt ringed with small, bubbling orange ponds, Peter took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, put his headphones on, then played a song in the middle of his mom's second Awesome Mix, letting the rhythm wash over him. Yeah, this was exactly what he needed.  _Not_  Rocket's cock.   
  
Definitely not Rocket's cock in the crevice of his ass, pulsing against his lubed up skin and then sliding down lower to —  
  
"Look, I know you're not full of the brightest ideas, but standing out here takes the cake."  
  
Peter couldn't help but jump. Rocket had lifted one of his headphones to talk directly in his ear as he came up behind Peter, who nearly sent his precious Walkman flying into one of the orange pools.  
  
"What the hell, man?" he hissed, clutching his prized possession to his chest as he willed his heart to stop jackhammering.  
  
Snickering, Rocket moved to thankfully stand next to Peter. "Been wanting to do that for a while."  
  
"And now that you have, you don't _need_ to. Ever again." Peter quickly stuffed his Walkman into his knapsack. Once he had it safely tucked away, he wished he had something to do with his hands.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, shouldn't take too long for the big guy to bounce back," Rocket said, crossing his arms over his chest as he followed Peter's gaze up to the shimmering red sky. "Sooner we get the hell off this deathtrap, the better."  
  
"I feel you," Peter said, then winced as he mentally pushed away exactly what he'd like to feel between his legs and lips.  
  
For a newly-turned human, Rocket's eyes still possessed that familiar, incredibly clever glint of his previous form. "Something bothering you? You been acting weird since this whole thing with me happened."  
  
"Nah. I just... Guess it's taking some time to adjust to the brand new you, is all." It wasn't a lie. Stealing a sidelong look at Rocket, Peter admitted, "I guess it's nice, y'know, having someone around who looks like me and isn't one of those stuffed up Xandarians."  
  
"You haven't met another humie?" Rocket sounded strangely incredulous. Like he actually cared.   
  
"Yeah. Not since... Honestly, I didn't feel much of a need to. But like I said, this is pretty cool. I mean, you're getting used to it, right?"  
  
Rocket drew in a deep breath. "Look, if anyone asks, I didn't say nothing, but this is pretty much the best I've felt since I can remember. I mean, life hasn't totally sucked since I met Groot, but this being up here is a whole new perspective. Yeah, there are things I can't do anymore, but a whole bunch of other things I  _can_  do. And I've been wondering, you know, if... I..."  
  
Peter nodded in understanding. "You don't think you deserve this."  
  
A long pause passed between them, then Rocket nodded.

"Well, between you and me, out of all of us, you deserved getting your biggest wish granted the most."  
  
"You're fucking with me."  
  
_Oh, if only._  "No, I'm serious. Gamora and Drax, you know they'd only want Thanos to drop down dead, but they wouldn't get any real satisfaction from such an easy kill. Groot - I'm not even sure what Groot wants. Maybe to grow different flowers? Or a new gun for you, one you could always just make yourself with some more practice - and paying _very_ close attention to all the safety precautions on the _Milano_." Rocket snorted, and Peter regained his composure, saying, "Anyway, it seems like Groot already has everything he really wants: us, especially you."

"Yeah, well, the feeling's mutual." Rocket's voice had stayed the same, right down to his almost constantly sarcastic tone, but Peter knew him better by now. "What about you?"

"Me?" He thumbed the outline of his Walkman over his knapsack. "It wouldn't be right, what I'd want."

"Yeah? What's that?"  
  
Peter felt his chest constrict and tears suddenly pricking at the corners of his eyes. He drew in a deep breath, and said, "I guess it's... better to let go of some things, some people. Because when they're gone, like,  _really_ gone, they're still with you anyway." He turned his head to face Rocket. "But getting a second chance, well, that's different. And that's what you earned."

Rocket didn't meet his gaze. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the cracked, greyish-brown ground. "But what if this is just a temporary thing? What if I wake up tomorrow, or a month from now, and I'm back to my lovable old self again?"

"You'll still be you," Peter said, then added brightly. "And you wouldn't have to worry about buying so many clothes." _And then I'd have to accept that I'm crushing hard on a raccoon_ , Peter added to himself. He didn't have to think about it now, but a part of him was strangely okay with that idea.  
  
They were quiet again for at least a minute, gazing up at the roiling red skies and swarms of murderous somethings in the distance, and Rocket said, "Look, Quill, when I asked what you wanted, I... Maybe I shouldn't have. I guess what I'm trying to say is, uh, I'm —"  
  
Suddenly, a six-foot long eel with antlers and a large mouth rimmed with razor-sharp teeth leaped out of the closest orange pool, shrieking and rippling in the air right toward Peter.   
  
Rocket dove, knocking him to the ground as the eel sailed over their heads. Dazed, Peter coughed in the dirt as Rocket rolled off of him and pulled a miniature gun from one of his thigh holsters, firing point blank at the eel's gaping jaws.   
  
It exploded in a burst of yellow and green, then Rocket rushed over to stomp on the rest of its wriggling remains. " _That_... was the  _second_  time I ever tried apologizing to someone, and you go and interrupt me!" he yelled as he put his boots to the wasted monstrosity. When he was done, he turned back, panting slightly, to look at Peter.  
  
"Apology accepted," Peter said weakly, and Rocket smiled his first human smile as Groot hurried over to check on them.

 

 

 

After the whole sordid affair, after they got the stupid thing they risked their lives for dozens of times and ended up being paid with more brightly-colored bones than units, Peter hit his bunk like a rock. Maybe when he'd wake up, he'd realize this had all been a very bad dream, the only good part being his talk with Rocket - oh yeah, being saved by him was an upside, too. He dwelled upon that bit as he drifted off to sleep, his back turned to Rocket so he wouldn't be able to see Quill smiling goofily into his pillow.  
  
He awoke from a nightmare of being chased by an eel with wings not too long later, strong arms wrapped around him and shallow breathing on his neck. He was so startled that he thought he was just having another bad dream. "Drax?" he whispered.  
  
"Really?  _Really_ , Quill? I'm offended, honestly."  
  
Peter hesitated, his face flushing as Rocket tightened his grip around him. "Rocket? What are you doing?"  
  
"It's frickin' freezing in here. All over the ship. Since I don't got my luxurious fur coat anymore and all  _you_  got for an 'extra blanket' is a ratty towel full of holes - I don't even wanna know - I needed to improvise. Now scoot over some more or I'm gonna fall off. Unless you want me to go get Mr. Destroyer of Dreams to lull you back to sleep with his deadly snores."  
  
"What? No." Peter slid over so he was up against the wall of the bunk. Rocket followed, pressing himself closer to Peter's back, his breath falling a little heavier on the nape of Peter's neck. Peter's heart started doing double time and soon enough, his dick started to wake up too, straining against his underwear. Great, just great. This was _exactly_ what he needed.  
  
Rocket sighed, wriggling closer still against Peter and... Yeah, he was pretty sure that was Rocket's erection pressed up against his ass.

Tensing up, Peter wondered if Rocket was going to pull away, or turn one of his guns on him.  
  
Instead, he moaned quietly, right into Peter's ear. The vibrations shot straight down to his balls.   
  
How the hell was he going to handle this? He decided to go with innocent. "Rocket? You, uh, okay there?"   
  
"You know, for someone who saved the whole galaxy," Rocket breathed into his ear, "you're kind of an idiot."   
  
Huffing a little indignantly, Peter hissed, "Then what are you spooning me for, man?" Not that he was complaining, but he wasn't going to be insulted.  
  
"Feels good, that's why. Thought you might've been sending me signals, but if this ain't copacetic —"  
  
"—No, no," Peter quickly assured him. "It's fine. I wasn't sure you even... You know."  
  
"Kinda was a little busy for a while, test-driving this new body out, figuring out how to be a different species. Yours, in fact," Before Peter could say anything to clarify, Rocket was suddenly straddling him, hands pushing up the hem of Peter's T-Shirt as he rocked against him. "Think I made the right decision, after all."  
  
Peter nodded, opening his mouth to agree, but as he did, Rocket quickly leaned down to kiss him.

Instead of worrying what this might do to the team and his usual method of "love 'em and leave 'em," Peter let Rocket take the lead and explore his mouth with his tongue. Soon, they were making out roughly and Peter's shirt had ridden up to his chest. Rocket ground his hips down onto Peter, first erratically and then putting pressure on just the right places. It figured that he'd be a natural at the same thing Peter had put long, hardworking hours into perfecting.   
  
Rocket's face was partly flushed, his hair damp and mussed, and his lids at half mast. Peter was almost taken aback at the sight. The griffin had done a bang-up job, but there was still Rocket in the man who was now thrusting against him. Deep down, he was still that same whip-smart, foul-mouthed rogue. Although he was as curious with Peter as he was with any array of random mechanics, Rocket's touch was firm but not painful, experimental but not cold.   
  
Peter held onto his waist with his larger hands, moving them a couple times to guide Rocket's hips as he hummed. Peter tried to jerk him off, but he seemed content enough just rolling his hips repeatedly as he palmed Peter's muscles, changing the pace from frenetic to languid, pressing himself down hard on Peter's erection. Rocket panted as he bucked and gathered a fistful of Peter's hair in one hand. They both muffled their groans and grunts of pleasure as much as they could, but Rocket let a few uninhibited growls slip as he rode on top of his shipmate, ally - _partner_ \-  making one of Peter's wishes come true.

A small part of Peter wanted more, wanted Rocket inside of him, pumping into him, but Peter knew that - along with doubled-up showers where he could put his mouth to work on Rocket - would come later. Literally.   
  
They were only getting started tonight.   
  
The harder Rocket bore down on him, the friction between their cocks increased, and they quickened. As Rocket suddenly fell forward, to bury his face into the crook of Peter's shoulder, he gasped. Peter did too, swearing he could see purple light behind his eyelids as he came. Rocket followed soon after and Peter held onto his back, running his hands up to his firm shoulders and then down to grip Rocket's ass as he shuddered above Peter.  
  
After their release, Rocket pulled back just to look down at him,  and that was when Peter knew. He had a feeling Rocket realized the same thing. They both knew why Rocket had chosen to be human, and instead of feeling embarrassed - or a little fearful, like whenever his marks started talking marriage, babies, or cages - Peter felt at peace.  
  
He lifted his head up to kiss Rocket once more, then again, and Rocket sighed in satisfaction, rolling over to return to his previous position, his leg swung over Peter's and one of his hands circling Peter's exposed waist. Before long, they'd dirty up the _Milano_ again in no time.  
  
He thought Rocket would promptly fall asleep, but as he nuzzled the back of Peter's neck, he talked. Rocket had done a lot, a  _lot_  of talking since they first met, but this was one of those rare times he seemed to put real meaning and emotion behind it.  
  
"Never thought I would say this, but you - us - humies ain't half-bad. I could get really used to this. And I'm starting to think... Maybe we could have it all, Quill. Us, Groot, and the two maniacs." He chuckled, and Peter put his hand over Rocket's. He didn't hear that audible vein of secret sorrow, of pain and self-disgust. "Best part is, I'm not a monster anymore."  
  
"Like I said before," Peter paused to turn his head and then whispered against Rocket's lips, "you never were one."


End file.
